


Shadows of the Dawn [SCRAPPED]

by TortieMom



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Gen, Original Character-centric, Original Clans (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortieMom/pseuds/TortieMom
Summary: [UPDATE: This story is being rewritten as Dawnshadow's Pride. I will leave the old version up, but for all future updates please see Dawnshadow's Pride instead.] NightClan was nearly destroyed by greencough during an especially hard leafbare with no help from their rival, LightClan. Moons later, the last kits in NightClan are made apprentices, but the paths they take will have far-reaching consequences for both Clans. After all, the sky is always darkest before the dawn...





	1. Allegiances

NightClan  
Leader:   
Halfstar, black and white tom with amber eyes

Deputy:   
Moonshadow, dark gray tabby tom with white patches and yellow eyes

Medicine Cat:   
Rosefall, cream tom with green eyes   
Echoheart, pale silver tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Warriors:  
Darkpelt, black tom with amber eyes  
Thornfang, black she-cat with green eyes  
Blackeye, black tom with one yellow eye  
Windwhisker, white and dark gray tabby tom with yellow eyes  
Stoneclaw, dark brown and white tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Dewpaw  
Gullfeather, pale gray tom with yellow eyes  
Lightningstrike, yellow tabby she-cat with yellow eyes  
Flamefoot, ginger tabby tom with green eyes and white paws  
Reedsplash, brown tabby tom with blue eyes

Apprentices:  
Lightpaw, pale yellow tabby tom with green eyes  
Dewpaw, small gray and white tom with blue eyes  
Dawnpaw, white she-cat with brown tabby patches and blue eyes  
Shadowpaw, black she-cat with green eyes

Elders:  
Snowytail, white tom with blue eyes and dark face and tail

LightClan  
Leader:   
Mousestar, black tom with large ears and green eyes

Deputy:   
Blueheart, gray she-cat with blue eyes and white markings, mentor to Duskpaw

Medicine Cat:  
Softflower, brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

Warriors:   
Cloudpelt, white and yellow tabby tom with blue eyes  
Graystorm, silver tabby tom with green eyes  
Lionclaw, amber tabby tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Silverpaw  
Tigerfang, brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes  
Dognose, black tom with yellow eyes  
Ducktail, white tom with gray tail and blue eyes  
Brownclaw, brown tabby tom with amber eyes   
Swiftleap, black and white she-cat with blue eyes

Apprentices:  
Silverpaw, silver tabby tom with green eyes  
Duskpaw, calico she-cat with blue eyes  
Skypaw, white tom with brown tabby patches and blue eyes  
Breezepaw, white tom with pale yellow tabby patches and blue eyes

Queens:  
Briarleaf, calico she-cat yellow eyes, expecting Mousestar’s kits  
Daisypetal, white she-cat with ginger patches and amber eyes, mother of Ducktail’s kits (Redkit, a white and ginger tom; Whitekit, an all-white tom; and Rainkit, a white and gray tom)

Elders:  
Tallwind, white tom with gray patches and yellow eyes  
Rockfur, gray tom with amber eyes


	2. Prologue

Prologue

The tiny scrap of dark fur shook from the effort of breathing as a cough rattled its frail frame. Damp, chewed-up leaves sat on the ground near its open mouth. Their only use was covering up the stench of sickness and death that enveloped the medicine den.

A pale silver she-cat tried desperately to get the little kitten to eat the leaves, but all it did was cough the herbs back out as it struggled to draw in breath. The rise and fall of its chest became less and less pronounced as her efforts continued. The silver she-cat licked the kitten’s fur the wrong way in an attempt to revive it, but its miniscule movements stopped despite her efforts. All she could do was let out a despairing cry as the kitten’s short life came to an end.

In moments a black she-cat burst through the walls of the holly bush that protected the sick cats within the den. “What’s happening?” she asked, though she didn’t bother to wait for an answer before she saw the still form of her kit. She crouched down to rouse the kit with her nose. “Please, Crowkit! You must survive!”

The cream tom who had been seeing to a wheezing elder turned to examine Crowkit, but all he could offer the black queen was a slow shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Thornfang. Crowkit will play with his denmates in StarClan now.”

“He never got to play at all!” Thornfang hissed, unsheathing her claws and digging them into the dry moss around her dead kit. She fixed a glare on the elder who was trying to rest further back in the den. “Why aren’t you doing more to save our kits?”

“There is only so much we can do without catmint,” the cream tom explained, but he wasn’t telling Thornfang anything that she didn’t already know. She turned away and left the medicine den with a lash of her tail, carrying Crowkit’s limp body away to be buried. His heart ached for his Clanmate; Crowkit was the second of this litter that she had lost, sick nearly from birth, and at her age it was likely that this was her last litter.

“What are we going to do, Rosefall?” the silver she-cat asked.

“The best we can,” he answered, though his tone was anything but optimistic. The outbreak of greencough that had started in mid leafbare had not released NightClan from its ruthless claws, even though newleaf was on the horizon. The returning warmth would revive the forest and NightClan’s supply of catmint, but it would not be ready to help treat the sick cats until at least another moon had passed.

Rosefall closed his eyes and tried to remember how many Clanmates the sickness had taken from them. Crowkit and his sister, Nightkit. Mallownose’s entire litter, and Mallownose as well; Littlebranch and the unborn kits inside her. The elders had been dwindled down to only Snowytail, who was struggling to stay alive, and they had lost nearly a third of their warriors—Marshtail, Leafclaw, Dapplefur, Yewheart, and Redmane. Dewpaw was the only apprentice left in camp after the death of his sister, Asterpaw.

He and his apprentice, Echopaw, had done everything they could for their Clanmates. When their supply of catmint ran out after the first moon of infection, they had tried every combination of herbs they could think of, and a few of the cats had gotten better for a while. Unfortunately, the sickness had become a close denmate to all the cats of NightClan, and even some of those who had defeated it once succumbed again when they were forced to go without food.

There was only one, last hope for NightClan to pull through the harsh season.

Rosefall’s ears pricked up at the sound of pawsteps thundering into camp and raced out of his den, not waiting for the excited announcement from the guard of, “Halfstar has returned!” He padded up to the black and white cat at the head of the patrol, eyes bright, but his enthusiasm was destroyed when he saw the broken look on his leader’s face.

He did not need to say anything. LightClan had once again refused to give up any of their catmint to NightClan. Rosefall had understood their reluctance in early leafbare, as they hadn't known whether or not they would experience an outbreak just as bad as NightClan's, but with newleaf fast approaching and not a single sniffle or cough in LightClan, Rosefall had hoped that they would change their minds about assisting their neighbors. He knew that they had herbs to spare, their own Clan largely untouched by disease in the past moons.

Halfstar took one look at Thornfang and Darkpelt, huddled close together in the clearing, and shook his head. Rosefall didn't have to say anything to him, either.

“Make sure you get something to eat. It’s going to be a long moon,” he whispered. Rather than climb the fallen pine tree to address the Clan, he slipped into the den underneath with is head down.

Echopaw approached Rosefall and pressed against his shoulder, letting him lean on her as disappointment flooded him from nose to paws. The night was beginning to fade away into the morning, but the medicine cats would have no time to rest through the early hours of the day. The cream tom brushed Echopaw’s back with his tail as he approached the meager fresh kill pile to find some attempt at a suitable substitute, glancing up at the sky to catch a glance at the last few StarClan warriors visible through the branches that were blackened by shadows.

A flash of bright light illuminated his vision, bringing an abrupt end to the bleak night.

The sky is always darkest just before the dawn.

He whipped his head around to face Echopaw, whose pale blue eyes were just as wide as he imagined his were. A sign from StarClan! Perhaps their situation was not as hopeless as they thought. With new energy, he bounded to the leader’s den to share the news.

NightClan would not be defeated yet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter One

Chapter One

Dawnkit poked her head out of the medicine den, bristling with excitement from her nose to the tip of her raised tail. The dusk patrol had just returned—Moonshadow, Flamefoot, and Stoneclaw from the smell of it—with their heads held high. Flamefoot had a scratch on his shoulder, but the ginger tom seemed unbothered and he made no move toward the medicine den, instead keeping his ears pricked toward Moonshadow as he climbed the fallen pine to speak to Halfstar. Their leader was watching over NightClan’s camp as he usually did, and his eyes glittered when he caught Dawnkit’s gaze.

Dawnkit purred despite herself. If there was a more noble or compassionate cat in all the forest, she’d eat bugs for a moon! 

Halfstar turned his head to speak quietly with his deputy, and Flamefoot licked his shoulder, probably hoping to get rid of evidence of the wound before he was sent to the medicine den. Like any young warrior, he was eager to have a scar to show his proficiency in battle, and it didn’t look like it was deep enough to leave a mark unless he avoided treatment.

I wonder what my first scar will be? Dawnkit mused. She pictured herself boldly rushing into battle against LightClan alongside her Clanmates with claws unsheathed, racing right up to Mousestar and challenging him to combat. It would be a tough battle, but in the end the mighty NightClan warriors would prevail over LightClan and force them to retreat across the river that separated their territories. Dawnkit would return to camp sporting a torn ear or a slash along her side, maybe. She flicked her ears against the leaves around them. She could see herself looking quite distinguished with a nice, clean notch in one ear.

“Dawnkit!” Rosefall called, and she pulled her head back through the holly bush. The cream tom had just finished grooming Lightkit, whose pale yellow tabby fur looked silkier than ever. Dawnkit’s own white and brown tabby pelt was even more spiked up than usual thanks to her shuffle through the branches of the den’s walls, and Rosefall let out an exasperated mew. “This is why I didn’t bother trying to groom you first.”

“If you hadn’t taken so long with Lightpaw, I wouldn’t have gotten bored!” Dawnkit countered, rearing up onto her hind legs and batting at Rosefall’s shoulder. He grabbed her scruff with his mouth and pulled her in front of him, then began smoothing her fur into place while she squeaked in protest. She shouldn’t be handled like a kit; she was practically a fully-grown cat! 

It seemed silly to her that she and Lightkit had been sent to the medicine den for their grooming instead of sickly Shadowkit, anyway. Dawnkit had never much minded that Thornfang and Darkpelt favored the smallest kit of their litter—Shadowkit was the spitting image of their father, and she had been the most severely affected by the sickness that had claimed two of their littermates. But when it came to such an important day, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that Shadowkit had all their parents’ attention. Couldn’t one of them help groom Dawnkit and Lightkit?

“We haven’t gotten our apprentice names yet,” Lightkit reminded her, looking around sheepishly as if they might be in trouble.

“I’m just getting used to it,” Dawnkit replied, wincing while Rosefall worked on a tangle near her shoulder.

“I pity whichever poor cat is forced to be your mentor,” Rosefall purred teasingly at Dawnkit. “You’ll have them running from here to the Moonhill all day!”

“Nope, that’s just you!” Dawnkit squirmed away from Rosefall and flopped onto her back to swipe at him with all four paws. He sighed and picked her back up, licking the scraps of moss from her pelt. “Besides, it’s LightClan who will be running!”

“But we’re at peace now,” Lightkit said, eyes wide. “You don’t think there will be a battle soon?”

“Of course not.” Rosefall rested his tail on Lightkit’s shoulder comfortingly. “But it is best that we stay prepared, just in case. You can never be sure what will happen. Badgers or foxes are sometimes far worse than a rival Clan.”

Lightkit shuffled his paws nervously and Dawnkit shook Rosefall off, hopping over to her worrywart littermate. “We’ll be fine! We’re NightClan warriors!”

“New apprentices.”

“Same difference!” Dawnkit said. “As long as we have the hearts of NightClan warriors, we can’t be defeated. Besides, we have to avenge Crowkit and Nightkit. If LightClan hadn’t been so stingy with their catmint, they would have survived leafbare and would be with us today.”

Though Dawnkit had no memory of Crowkit or Nightkit, she had grown up on the stories of the great leafbare sickness that had decimated NightClan’s ranks. She had been taught of LightClan’s cruelty from the moment she opened her eyes, and every day since then she saw the devastating tolls that it had taken on NightClan. Now that she and her siblings were being apprenticed, there were no queens or kits left in the Clan; Thornfang was too old to have another litter, Echoheart was a medicine cat, and despite Lightningstrike and Blackeye’s best efforts, it didn’t look like they would have kits soon. Dawnkit had heard Rosefall speculate that Lightningstrike might be barren.

It didn’t take the cleverness of a fox to realize that Halfstar paid special attention to Dawnkit, Shadowkit, and Lightkit because they were the last remaining hope for NightClan’s future. If anything happened to the few kits that had survived leafbare, NightClan would slowly die out. Not that Dawnkit especially minded the extra attention and occasional gift of feathers for their nest or honeycomb to lick.

Lightkit, Shadowkit, and I are going to save NightClan and teach LightClan a lesson! We’re special!

Rosefall smoothed a tuft of fur on the top of her head. “Vengeance never did anything good for any cat. LightClan didn’t send Crowkit and Nightkit to StarClan, greencough did.”

Which was LightClan’s fault, Dawnkit wanted to argue, but Echoheart slipped through the holly branches with a few herbs in her mouth. She set the new leaves down, weaving carefully around the cats already inside. “You might want to head into the clearing. The whole Clan is already there, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Halfstar doesn’t bother to call the meeting like he normally does.”

Lightkit’s fur spiked up in alarm and Dawnkit ran around him in a circle, unbalancing him and causing him to stumble into the herbs that Echoheart had just sorted. “It’s time!” she purred, leaping through the holly bush and getting her fur ruffled. With a flick of his tail, Rosefall nudged Lightkit to his feet and the group followed Dawnkit into the clearing.

Dawnkit was glad that Halfstar had waited until sundown to perform the ceremony. Even though she’d spent the whole day feeling like she was standing on pine needles from being made to wait, the clearing was still warm from the greenleaf sun. She couldn’t imagine sitting on the hot, exposed earth during sunhigh, especially given how dense her and Lightkit’s coats were.

Every cat in NightClan had already gathered, just as Echoheart said. Dawnkit bounced over to Shadowkit, who was sitting neatly with her tail curled over her paws, her sleek, black fur shining with the last bits of daylight that filtered through the treetops above. Darkpelt and Thornfang sat behind them, their chins high and chests lifted with pride. Dawnkit noticed that their eyes were trained on Shadowkit, and she did her best not to mind. They had probably thought that their littlest kit wouldn’t make it to this day, so they had every right to show her a bit of favoritism. Dawnkit had always been the biggest and most boisterous kit, so she didn’t need them looking out for her as much. Especially not when Rosefall was more than ready to step in on their behalf!

Lightkit settled down on her other side and tried to fix his fur as they waited for Halfstar to emerge from his den.

“Aren’t you two excited?” Dawnkit asked. “How can you sit there so calmly?”

“It isn’t like our ceremony is going anywhere,” Shadowkit pointed out, though her mew was good-natured.

“Exactly my point!” Dawnkit exclaimed.

“Maybe Halfstar is rethinking our mentors one more time,” Lightkit suggested. “I know if I were leader, I’d take ages to figure it out. It’s such an important choice.”

“Halfstar knows exactly who should mentor us,” Dawnkit said, and tried to sit down and look a little less like she had ants in her pelt. Her tail and ears twitched, but she managed to keep her paws still and not leap back to her feet when Halfstar finally emerged and climbed onto the fallen pine. 

“Let all cats old enough—” He stopped when he looked down and saw the entire Clan already gathered. “Well now, why didn’t someone tell me I was late?” Laughter rippled through the gathered cats, and he continued, “I cannot blame you for your excitement, NightClan. We have all been waiting for this day for quite some time, and I’m sure that Dawnkit, Shadowkit, and Lightkit have been waiting more eagerly than of all of us. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer! Come forward, young ones.”

Dawnkit lurched forward, clearing the distance with a strong jump from her seated position. Shadowkit darted after her, and Lightkit gave one last look back to Rosefall before padding along with more caution.

“Dawnkit, Lightkit, and Shadowkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Shadowkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Shadowpaw. Your mentor will be Windwhisker. I hope that Windwhisker will pass down all he knows to you.” Shadowpaw nodded with determination, and the white and gray tabby warrior approached. “Windwhisker, you have already trained excellent warriors, and you are ready for another apprentice. You have shown great skill in hunting and courage in battle, both of which saved NightClan from much more grief during the last leafbare. I know that you will make a fine warrior of Shadowpaw.” 

Shadowpaw and Windwhisker touched noses, and Dawnkit felt both pride and relief. Windwhisker was an amazing warrior, but she hadn’t wanted the quiet, no-nonsense tom to be her own mentor. She was hoping that her mentor was someone she could be lifelong friends with, and she couldn’t see that happening with Windwhisker.

“Lightkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Lightpaw. Your mentor will be Flamefoot. I hope that Flamefoot will pass down all he has learned to you.” Both the ginger tom and Lightpaw looked surprised, but Flamefoot came forward eagerly enough. “Flamefoot, you are a young warrior, but you have proven your dedication to NightClan. I hope that you will instill in Lightpaw your quick-thinking and enthusiasm… and that Lightpaw might remind you when you need to go to the medicine den. I believe that the two of you will make each other into better warriors than any other cat in the Clan.”

A few cats whispered at that, and Dawnkit caught the name of Redmane, who had trained Flamefoot. Were Halfstar’s words an insult to the now-dead warrior? Flamefoot and Lightpaw didn’t seem to hear, and they touched noses and exchanged a few words between themselves.

She couldn’t focus too much on that. It was her turn at last!

“Dawnkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Dawnpaw. Your mentor will be Moonshadow. I hope that Moonshadow will pass on all he knows to you.”

Dawnpaw gasped. She was going to be mentored by the deputy! She was even more special than she had thought! The dark gray tom stood beside her and gave her a warm look, despite his firm stance. “Moonshadow, you are my most trusted warrior. I know that you can guide Dawnpaw’s energy into service for her Clan and help her reach her fullest potential as a warrior. I know you will teach her everything she needs to know.”

Dawnpaw tried to stand still when Moonshadow leaned down to touch noses with her, but she couldn’t stand to wait and leaned up at the last minute, bumping their noses into each other. Despite the brief mrows of laughter from the cats closest to them, Dawnpaw was too excited to be embarrassed.

“Shadowpaw! Lightpaw! Dawnpaw!”

Even shy Lightpaw purred loudly as the Clan called out their new names. Cats came up to congratulate them individually, and the crowd dispersed as the fresh-kill pile was divided up.

Moonshadow spoke briefly to a few cats. “Darkpelt and Blackeye will take the first watch tonight; Thornfang and Dewpaw can take second watch, if that’s okay with you, Stoneclaw.”

Stoneclaw flicked one ear. “Dewpaw may as well be treated as a warrior. He will be one soon.”

“He should have been one last moon,” Gullfeather added gruffly.

Dawnpaw glanced across the camp at her new denmate. Dewpaw had been made an apprentice before she and her littermates had been born, and he looked much more like a warrior than an apprentice now. His tendency to stay quiet and keep to himself when he was in camp disguised how big he was; next to him, Dawnpaw felt like she ought to still be in the nursery. She shook that thought off. She was only just now an apprentice, and Dewpaw had been ready for his warrior ceremony for at least a moon. She would get to be his size soon enough.

Moonshadow ignored Gullfeather’s comment and said, “Then all of today’s duties are decided. I want Lightningstrike and Reedsplash on the dawn patrol tomorrow—Stoneclaw, you lead. The other mentors and I will be giving the apprentices their tours of the territory.”

Dawnpaw’s eyes widened. Surely they wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow to begin their duties? “I can go now,” she offered. “I’m not tired at all.”

“You’ll need your rest for tomorrow; we’ll be touring the territory during the day and night,” Moonshadow explained. “But you will have duties tonight. Windwhisker and I will show you the best place to gather moss, and you’ll build your new nests and help anyone else who needs a new nest before they go to sleep tonight.”

That wasn’t the most exciting task, but Dawnpaw nodded. “Okay! I’ll make the best nests in the whole Clan!”

“What about me?” Flamefoot asked.

“You’ll be going to see Rosefall about that scratch,” Moonshadow scolded. “The last thing we need is you getting an infection and being unable to train Lightpaw. Especially if you want to be strong enough to patrol the whole territory twice tomorrow.”

Flamefoot grumbled something about blackberry bushes under his breath and headed to the medicine den. Lightpaw looked torn on whether he should stay with the other apprentices and their mentors or follow Flamefoot. Dawnpaw headbutted his shoulder. “You can bring some fresh moss to the medicine den and check on him later. Let's go get that moss!”

Moonshadow brushed her shoulder with the tip of his tail in approval as she fell in line beside him and her paws tingled with pride. She would be the best apprentice NightClan had ever seen, and when she became a warrior she would show all those LightClan cowards what a horrible mistake they'd made by leaving her Clanmates to suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
“Skypaw! Breezepaw!”  
  
Skypaw fluffed up his fur and basked in the pride of his Clanmates before leaping down from the Tall Stump and trotting over to his friends and family. Tigerfang purred and touched noses with him while Cloudpelt brushed his tail over his and Breezepaw’s backs in approval.  
  
“I know you’ll be great warriors someday,” Tigerfang mewed, nuzzling Breezepaw so fiercely that she nearly knocked him over.  
  
“I hope you don’t snore anymore,” Silverpaw teased, prodding Skypaw’s shoulder.  
  
“I wouldn’t know, but I’ll be sure to make my nest right next to yours just in case,” Skypaw laughed. Silverpaw and Duskpaw had been made apprentices the previous moon, and Skypaw had missed sleeping next to them. They had played in the nursery together all their lives, and while Skypaw understood that kits weren’t allowed to train as warriors before their sixth moon for a reason, it hadn’t made the loss of time with his friends any easier to bear.  
  
“You’ll have time to catch up later,” Brownclaw said, looking quite pleased to have been given an apprentice after seasons of waiting. He’d spent most of the past moon’s evenings showing Skypaw and Breezepaw the hunting crouch. Mousestar probably hadn’t hesitated in choosing him to mentor Breezepaw. “It’s time for both of you to see our territory.”  
  
“LightClan territory is usually safe, but you’ll need to stay alert just in case,” Dognose warned.  
  
Silverpaw flicked Skypaw’s ear with his tail before he walked away, but Skypaw hardly noticed. Even though it was against the rules, most kits did sneak out of camp at least once before they reached six moons, but Skypaw and Breezepaw hadn’t had that chance for mischief under Tigerfang’s close watch. Not that he could blame her for her caution. Skypaw’s litter had been her first, and two of his littermates had wandered away and been killed by foxes while their mother slept. All of LightClan had tracked down the fox, but they had found it too late to save the kits.  
  
I wish Gustkit and Tempestkit could be here today, Skypaw thought. He glanced up at the bright morning sky. Are they watching from StarClan right now? As he climbed out of the hollow that sheltered LightClan’s camp with Breezepaw, Brownclaw, and Dognose, he whispered a cheer of, “Gustpaw! Tempestpaw!”  
  
LightClan’s territory stretched out before them from the top of the hollow, which was located at the highest point of the territory so the guards could easily survey the land for danger. The ground sloped downward toward the direction of the sunset, where a river divided the hills from the denser forest. Rainwater flowing down from the hill created several gullies.  
  
Skypaw understood what Dognose meant about being alert now; some of the trenches were deep, and if a cat could get seriously hurt if they fell in on accident. The black tom spoke as if he had read Skypaw’s mind, “The gullies can be a danger when you don’t know where they are, but they also help protect LightClan from invaders. However, we must check them daily for foxes or badgers trying to settle in them, and for rogues and loners that might have fallen in and need help. Be careful when you approach—the sandy ground around them can give way and make you slip.”  
  
The group headed downhill toward the river along the gullies. Breezepaw and Skypaw placed their paws carefully behind Dognose, watching him closely to learn how they should walk near the gashes in the ground. They shifted their weight onto the side that was further away from the edge so they could recover quickly if they slipped. Behind them, Brownclaw meowed his approval. “Very good, both of you. The more you patrol, the more it will become second nature. In the future you’ll be comfortable enough to look into the gullies when you pass, but for now let’s focus on getting to the border.”  
  
Skypaw couldn’t help but peek into the crevice. “I think I can see something!”  
  
Dognose leaned over and glanced down. “A lizard, too small to be worth stopping. We’ll show you how to hunt in the gullies another day. Just pay attention to where you’re putting your paws for now.”  
  
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Breezepaw’s hind foot slipped on the loose ground. He yowled in alarm, but his weight was still shifted to his other side so he didn’t fall in. Brownclaw nudged him to help him regain his balance and the group continued toward the rushing water.  
  
Despite the greenleaf heat, the river was flowing rapidly. Skypaw took a swipe at it, shaking when his paw touched the cold water.  
  
Breezepaw wrinkled his nose in disgusts. “What is that smell?” Skypaw looked up. The wind was blowing from the direction of the woods, carrying a heavy, musty stench with it. He winced and took a few steps back from the water’s edge.  
  
“That is NightClan,” Brownclaw said. “The river marks where their territory begins—but you’ll find that they feel the need to mark every inch of the border anyway.”  
  
Skypaw looked across the water at the thickly wooded area and the deep shadows between the tree trunks. Poor NightClan, he thought. Their territory was so crowded and dark and cold. How did they live without sunlight to warm their pelts and wind to smooth their fur? How did they hunt when they couldn’t see where they were going? And worst of all—how could they be close to StarClan with so many trees blocking them out at night? He felt sorry for their rivals. If they ever trespassed onto LightClan territory to hunt and sun themselves, he’d understand why, but he’d still chase them off for breaking the warrior code.  
  
“How do we visit their camp if we’re separated by the river?” Breezepaw asked.  
  
“There are stones a little further down that we can use to cross into NightClan territory, but we rarely have the need to do that since the Gathering place is on our side. Only Mousestar and Softflower have any need to cross.” Dognose explained.  
  
“Speaking of the Gathering place…” Brownclaw gestured with his tail, “It’s in a hollow just over there. It is technically on LightClan territory, but it doesn’t belong to us. We don’t hunt there or mark the area out of respect. NightClan is already uneasy crossing our territory to get to the Gathering, so the last thing they need when they get there is to be reminded that they’re in an unfamiliar place.”  
  
“Usually if NightClan warriors need to talk to us about something when it isn’t a Gathering night, they wait there. Medicine cats also meet here before going to the Moonhill together,” Dognose added.  
  
Skypaw and Breezepaw kept their eyes open as they walked that way. Skypaw saw the hollow first, and Breezepaw saw the crossing stones, which were right across from the Gathering place. “Makes sense,” Breezepaw commented.  
  
The Gathering Place itself looked a lot like LightClan’s camp; the sides sloped toward a pool of water and a few bushes grew near the bottom. The bushes at the top of the hollow helped keep the ground there in place, so edge of the hollow looked as if cats had scraped pawfuls from beneath the top to create cover in case it rained.  
  
The group walked around the Gathering place once and continued on along the river.  
  
“This area is a great for hunting,” Brownclaw said, weaving through the tall grass. “There aren’t any gullies to fall into and the ground is fairly flat, so you can build up enough speed to run down rabbits.”  
  
“If you’re fast enough,” Dognose replied, nudging the long, lean warrior with his shoulder. “You and Graystorm can race after all the rabbits you like, but I’ll stick to stalking mice and groundhogs, thank you.”  
  
Skypaw looked at his mentor uneasily. Did that mean he wouldn’t learn how to chase rabbits? He could see Breezepaw being good at rabbit hunting, and he didn’t want to be left behind.  
  
“There’s not much more to LightClan territory than that, except for one thing. This next part is incredibly important, so I want you both to pay close attention.” Dognose continued. He broke away from the group for a moment and Brownclaw signaled for Skypaw and Breezepaw to wait. Dognose returned in moments with a mouse between his jaws, but he didn’t eat it or pause to give the new apprentices a hunting lesson.  
  
The senior warrior led them back up the slope and away from NightClan territory. They walked for a while over the shallow hills and around gullies, even jumping over a few thinner ones, until they were standing before a long expanse of silver ivy that grew upward and wrapped around itself. Skypaw almost leaned closer to get a better look at the strange, inorganic-looking plant, but Breezepaw stopped him.  
  
“Did Twolegs build this?” Breezepaw asked.  
  
“Yes. It marks the end of LightClan territory, and for good reason,” Brownclaw explained. “Stand back.”  
  
The two apprentices sat close together, staring at the woven ivy with curiosity. Dognose set down the mouse. “StarClan, we thank you for this prey. Though we know and acknowledge that prey being hunted only to be eaten is a part of your noble code, we hope that you will overlook our actions as necessary, in order to show our apprentices the dangers of Twoleg things and prevent unnecessary grief.”  
  
Then he flung the mouse at the ivy with a hooked swipe of his paw.  
  
Sparks flew from the barrier and the acrid sting of burning flesh and fur filled the air. The mouse dropped and lay smoking on the ground, blackened where it had touched the Twoleg ivy.  
  
Breezepaw and Skypaw jumped up with a unified hiss, their tails fluffed out in alarm.  
  
“What happened?” Skypaw exclaimed.  
  
“This is the Lightning Wall. You must never, ever, ever touch it, even with a whisker, or you’ll share the same fate as that mouse. If you only remember one thing from today, remember that. Good cats have lost their lives because they were careless and forgot how dangerous the wall is.” There was no hint of amusement or excitement in Brownclaw’s mew, and Skypaw wondered if he might be related to one such cat.  
  
The two young toms took a few steps back from the Lightning Wall. “Why would the Twolegs make such an evil thing?” Breezepaw asked.  
  
“We don’t know. Maybe they’re protecting their territory,” Dognose suggested.  
  
“It doesn’t matter why they built it. What matters is that we stay away from it, at least one fox length at all times,” Brownclaw said. “Obviously we don’t patrol the border closely here. Our main concern is the border with NightClan, and keeping a watch for rogues on the other side of the territory, but they’re less likely to cross the river than NightClan and we don’t usually have to worry about cats coming down from the mountains.”  
  
Skypaw looked across the hills, to the jagged peaks that rose into the sky where the sun rose, from which Tigerfang had gotten the inspiration for his name. It was hard to imagine that there were cats who lived on the other side. There were loners and rogues for sure, but what if there were other Clans, too? His mind buzzed with the possibilities like bees in a hive, but he knew that he would never know the answer for sure. He belonged in LightClan and nowhere else.  
  
“That about covers it. What do you think of our territory?” Dognose asked.  
  
If they hadn’t gone to see the Lightning Wall, Skypaw would have enthusiastically answered that he loved how the territory itself defended LightClan from invasion—though the Lightning Wall certainly did that as well—and that the constant breeze in his fur made him feel like he could run from sunrise to sunset. He wanted to say how eager he was to start learning how to hunt above ground and down in the gullies. But after seeing the way the Lightning Wall burned up the mouse, and imagining what it might do to a living creature, a living cat, he found it hard to say anything at all.  
  
“It’s home,” Breezepaw answered for him. “It’s our home, and we’ll fight to the last breath to defend it.”  
  
Dognose twitched his whiskers in approval. “Very good. Thankfully we’re at peace now, and have been for some time—but there are always dangers lurking in the wild, and we’ll be glad to have two new strong, brave cats to help protect LightClan when you’re done with your training.”  
  
The walk back to the hollow was a lot longer and more tiring, as most of it was uphill. Breezepaw didn’t ask any more questions all the way back, but both of them lifted their heads and tails higher when they saw the familiar walls and bushes of their home. Skypaw bounded over the edge of the hollow and slid down, barreling into Silverpaw, who was talking to Graystorm while they shared a squirrel.  
  
“Ow!” Silverpaw hissed before he saw who it was. “Oh, Skypaw—the tour went well, then?”  
  
“It was interesting,” Skypaw said, sitting down next to him. Silverpaw passed him the rest of the squirrel as Graystorm got up to leave the apprentices alone. While few cats would be able to tell that Silverpaw hadn’t been born in LightClan, Graystorm had never quite lost the look of a loner, and he didn’t like talking to more than one cat at a time. Even then he usually only spoke to Silverpaw, Blueheart, or Mousestar. There were still cats in LightClan that didn’t like the fact that Mousestar had agreed to take the loner in, Skypaw’s own father Cloudpelt being among the loudest of them. Despite that, Skypaw had always been close friends with Silverpaw and couldn’t see that ever changing.  
  
“I remember being a little shaken up the first time I saw the Lightning Wall,” Silverpaw said, guessing at what was on Skypaw’s mind. “Especially since it would have been really easy for Graystorm to try to climb over it when we were still wandering. But if you keep your distance, it’s not a problem, and it makes sure that LightClan is safe on that side.”  
  
“I know,” Skypaw mewed. “I think Breezepaw is probably more scared of it, since he wants to know why it was built and will start asking questions and work himself up—”  
  
“I am not scared of it.” Breezepaw sat down next to them and gave his chest a few licks. “I was surprised, that’s all.”  
  
“Hey!” Duskpaw padded over and sat next to them, dropping the pigeon she’d been carrying between her and Breezepaw. She dipped her head to invite him to share as she mewed, “Anything interesting happen while you were checking out the territory?”  
  
Skypaw didn’t want to mention the Lightning Wall again. “We scented NightClan near the border.”  
  
“How could you not?” Silverpaw snorted.  
  
“Have you ever seen a NightClan cat?” Breezepaw asked.  
  
“Once or twice.”  
  
“They’re polite,” Duskpaw added. “Mousestar took me on an evening patrol the other day and we saw a few. Gullfeather, Windwhisker, and… Reedsplash, I think? They said hello and asked us how things are in LightClan, but we didn’t say much. Even if we had big news we wouldn’t tell them—that’s what Gatherings are for. I can’t wait to go and meet the NightClan apprentices!”  
  
“We shouldn’t get too friendly with them,” Breezepaw said. “They are a potential enemy, after all.”  
  
“Not during greenleaf. There’s plenty of prey, so we have no reason to fight,” Duskpaw pointed out.  
  
“Greenleaf ends,” Breezepaw mumbled, turning his attention to picking through the pigeon’s feathers to get to the meat.  
  
“If you’re going to be that ominous, you might want to talk to Softflower about being her apprentice instead of Brownclaw’s,” Silverpaw said, giving himself a quick wash before getting up. “I’m on evening patrol, so I’m going to get a nap in before it gets dark. See you later.”  
  
Silverpaw flicked one of Skypaw’s ears with his tail as he passed by. Skypaw ran a paw over it worriedly. Was Breezepaw right to be so concerned? Should they be on alert for an attack from NightClan? Silverpaw and Duskpaw seemed unbothered by the idea, but Skypaw couldn’t help but be a little nervous about it. If he were a NightClan cat, would he sacrifice peace to expand his territory and prove his strength?  
  
I’ll never know because I’m not a NightClan cat, he thought.  
  
A shadow fell across him and he looked up at Dognose. “If you’re done eating, we can go get some fresh bedding for the elders. I’m sure they’ll tell you a story while you fix their new nests.”  
  
Skypaw jumped to his feet. He couldn’t change what would happen in the future, but he could put his all into what he was doing right now, and that was learning to be the best LightClan warrior he could be. If trouble with NightClan ever did come, he’d be ready to fight for his Clanmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Dawnpaw trotted into camp behind Ripplesplash and Blackeye with a ground squirrel dangling from her jaws. She started for the elders’ den when Moonshadow stopped her with a sharp mew.

“Where have you been?”

“On the dawn patrol,” Dawnpaw answered, setting her squirrel down and licking away a bit of the blood that had dripped onto her fur. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go do something useful. And it is the dawn paw-trol.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out without asking,” Moonshadow snapped, not even twitching a whisker at her joke.

Dawnpaw lowered her gaze. “I just wanted to help out and be a good apprentice.”

“A good apprentice gets her mentor’s permission. We had battle training this morning with Shadowpaw and Windwhisker,” Moonshadow said. “We’ve kept them waiting long enough. Lightpaw can take that squirrel to Snowytail when he’s done gathering moss.”

Moonshadow turned and Dawnpaw followed him to the place where moss was gathered from, which doubled as the apprentices’ training area. The soft, spongy ground helped absorb impact so they could train harder. Not that it much mattered when she was supposed to be sparring with Shadowpaw and would have to be careful with her anyway.

The first moon of Dawnpaw’s training had passed, and she would already rather spar with Flamefoot or Ripplesplash than Shadowpaw and Lightpaw. 

Shadowpaw was too delicate for too much roughhousing, even though she did her best, and when Dawnpaw did train harder against her sister she was usually scolded by Darkpelt and Thornfang. Shadowpaw didn’t want to be treated like a kit, but she didn’t have much choice otherwise with their parents’ fussing. 

Lightpaw was too cautious, and while he did sometimes pull off a well-calculated technique, he just didn’t have the mind for pretending to be in a serious battle. Dawnpaw thought that he might have a future as deputy when Moonshadow retired. He’d be great at putting well-balanced patrols together and figuring out how best to defend NightClan from attack. He was great at all the theoretical stuff, and she was pretty sure that he was coming up with new techniques and sharing them with Flamefoot. But when it came to actually practicing those moves, he could never bring himself to hit hard enough for Dawnpaw.

He just needs more confidence, she thought. She settled herself on the moss next to Shadowpaw to listen to what their mentors had to teach them.

“Today we’ll be showing you how to counter LightClan techniques.”

Dawnpaw leaned forward eagerly. If nothing else, Moonshadow could never call her lazy or disinterested when it came to training.

“Like us, LightClan utilizes their territory to their advantage. Can you tell us some of the ways we use our territory?” Windwhisker asked.

“We have thick undergrowth, so we can ambush our opponents,” Shadowpaw piped up immediately. “We can also disguise our numbers better and it’s easier for us to surround our enemy. We attack from all four sides and then take cover, and enemy warriors hurt themselves trying to reach us.”  
“Excellent, Shadowpaw,” Windwhisker said. “And how might LightClan use their territory?”

Dawnpaw tried to remember the look of LightClan’s territory. She hadn’t paid much attention to it on patrols; she didn’t care what was going on in LightClan so long as they were staying on their side of the border. She thought back to the tour of the territory she’d taken with her siblings. There was a lot of tall grass on LightClan territory, not many trees, and deep fissures in the ground.

“LightClan can strike from below,” she mewed, hoping it was the right answer. “They hide in the ditches and then attack. Or—they could knock cats into the ditches.”

Moonshadow dipped his head to one side. “Not a bad answer in theory, but the gullies are usually too deep for a cat to effectively leap out of one to attack. They’d have to claw their way up and give themselves away, and be at a disadvantage until they could pull themselves out. And they wouldn’t try to deliberately kill a warrior by pushing them down. Shadowpaw?”

“They can run fast and lose pursuers in the tall grass. And since there are gullies, you can’t follow them quickly or else you might fall in, so they can get back to camp and get reinforcements fast.”

“That’s true, but it isn’t a battle technique,” Windwhisker pointed out. “LightClan’s real advantage in battle, and the tactics they use the most, is the fact that they usually have the high ground due to the slope. That means they can leap at you with greater force than you can at them, and it’s harder to make an advance toward them. Today, we’ll show you how to use their momentum against them.”

Moonshadow gestured toward a large, exposed root with his tail. “Dawnpaw, you get up there and prepare to lunge at Shadowpaw.”

“Don’t you dare take it easy on me,” Shadowpaw whispered as Dawnpaw walked away. Her voice was light, but Dawnpaw could tell she was serious.

She thought about how angry Darkpelt and Thornfang would be if she actually practiced with Shadowpaw the way she did with Lightpaw and Moonshadow. But it had been a moon, and Shadowpaw hadn’t had any kind of relapse into her illness despite participating in patrols and battle training before. Dawnpaw doubted that Windwhisker would let himself be forced into submitting to their parents’ will when it came to training his apprentice.

And holding back wasn’t going to help her or Shadowpaw become the best warriors they could be.

Okay, I’ll go all-out this time, Dawnpaw thought with conviction. She leapt onto the root and tucked her paws under her, tensing her muscles and getting ready to make the most ferocious leap she could without threatening real harm to Shadowpaw.

“Okay, Shadowpaw, there are a few things you can do. You can dodge to the side and try to counter, or you can duck down and try to catch Dawnpaw’s belly. What you shouldn’t do is try to tackle her head-on, because she’ll knock you over and have a clear shot at your belly before you can get up and push her off,” Windwhisker explained.

“I’m going to try—”

“Don’t tell us!” Windwhisker covered Shadowpaw’s mouth with his plumed tail. “Letting your enemy know what you’re about to do is the worst mistake you can make in a battle. Just decide, and do it.”

Shadowpaw nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Moonshadow signaled Dawnpaw with his tail, and she pressed her paws into the root to get a good grip before pushing off with her hind legs. She barreled into Shadowpaw, who moved to the side to try a counter-attack, but wasn’t ready for how fast Dawnpaw was going to jump. Dawnpaw’s foreleg hooked around Shadowpaw’s and the two tumbled over each other, with Dawnpaw landing hard on top of Shadowpaw. 

With a furious hiss, the black she-cat lashed out with her hind legs and pummeled Dawnpaw’s side with her claws unsheathed. When Dawnpaw felt the sharp sting raking through her pelt, she unsheathed her own claws and swiped at Shadowpaw’s ears and face, tearing into one of her littermate’s ears.

Teeth sank into her scruff and hauled her away from Shadowpaw. “That’s enough, both of you!” Moonshadow snarled. “Dawnpaw, you and I need to talk. Shadowpaw, go see Rosefall.”

Shadowpaw got up, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry!”

Dawnpaw licked her side, but didn’t taste any blood. Shadowpaw must not have broken her skin. “It’s fine. I’m sorry about your ear.”

The black she-cat ducked her head and ran back to camp, Windwhisker close behind her. 

Moonshadow sat down and let out a heavy sigh. “Would you like to explain to me what just happened, Dawnpaw?”

“An accident?” Dawnpaw offered. “I guess Shadowpaw wasn’t as ready as she thought, and she got scared and lashed out, and then I got scared and lashed out. We didn’t mean to hurt each other.”

“Are you sure that’s all? I’ve never seen you train that hard against Shadowpaw before.”

“Are you going to tell Darkpelt and Thornfang?” Dawnpaw mewed.

“I think they’ll know as soon as Shadowpaw gets back to camp,” Moonshadow said. He curled his tail, inviting Dawnpaw to sit down next to him, which she did. “Being a mentor is about more than battle moves and stalking skills, just like being a warrior is about more than fighting and hunting. I want you to know that you can talk to me about things that are bothering you. I understand that Shadowpaw gets special treatment from your parents, and how that could make a young cat—”

“I’m not jealous!”

“—upset.” Moonshadow gave her a sympathetic lick between the ears. “Why don’t we practice some battle moves, one-on-one? I’ll show you the move that earned me the position of deputy.”

Dawnpaw’s ears pricked up in interest. “I thought you were chosen after the last deputy died.”

“I was,” Moonshadow said. He got to his feet and circled the moss patches. “We’ve dealt with foxes in the past, but none as fierce or clever as the she-fox we call Snarl. She wasn’t simply looking for a meal or defending her kits. She thought killing cats was fun, and stalked us through our own territory, striking and killing a few of our warriors and leaving their bodies behind without even making prey of them. She was a mangy, vile thing.”

Dawnpaw shivered. Thornfang had told her littermates stories about Snarl to keep them in their nest at night, and the vicious she-fox had appeared in plenty of their nightmares.

“Halfstar had just received his nine lives then, and lost one rescuing Lightningstrike—back when she was Lightningpaw—from Snarl’s jaws. His deputy back then was my former mentor, Morningwillow. After a long talk, they decided that we could not wait for Snarl to leave the territory; whenever we did chase her off, she always came back. We had to kill her if we wanted to keep NightClan safe.”

Moonshadow crouched down like he was stalking through the undergrowth. He motioned for Dawnpaw to do the same. “Morningwillow and Halfstar both went on the patrol, along with Darkpelt, Stoneclaw, Redmane, Flamepaw, Marshtail, Reedpaw, and myself. We attacked in pairs.”

He lunged forward with paws raised, raking them downward through the air. Dawnpaw matched him, wind whistling between her claws before they slammed onto the ground. She could practically see the red fur coming loose at her strike.

“Despite being outnumbered, Snarl fought like ten warriors. We fought back with the strength of StarClan, but every blow dealt by Snarl nearly incapacitated its victim. Still, we kept going, for the sake of our Clan. Finally, I was able to deal a decisive slash to her throat!”

Dawnpaw watched his moves carefully. He dropped down and surged up, twisting mid-lunge to arc his claws above his head. She imagined the fox’s open jaws coming down for him, bringing her neck into close range of the strike. She tried the move herself, but couldn’t get the timing just right; it wasn’t easy twist, leap, and aim the attack all at once. And if Moonshadow had failed, he would have been killed by Snarl’s bite for sure.

“Unfortunately, Morningwillow was too badly injured in the battle. She didn’t even make it back to camp,” Moonshadow said, his mew still sorrowful despite the moons that had passed. “Before she went to StarClan, she told me she was proud of me, and declared that I had her blessing to succeed her as deputy because of my courage in dealing the final blow to Snarl. At the time I was mentoring Dewpaw’s sister, Mistpaw, so I was allowed. Halfstar appointed me as deputy right then at Morningwillow’s request. She wanted to go to StarClan with the assurance that she was leaving NightClan in capable paws.”

Dawnpaw tried the move again. She was getting a little better at the timing, and her claws reached a little higher each time. Foxes wouldn’t stand a chance against her! And it was Moonshadow’s own move. While he had probably shared it with other warriors, Dawnpaw still felt like she’d been included in a special secret.

She was his second apprentice, but since Mistpaw had died during the greencough outbreak, she would be the first apprentice he had that became a warrior. That fact made her want to try even harder in her training. She would be an apprentice that any warrior would be proud of, and then a warrior that NightClan would admire and LightClan would fear.

“Very good, but the secret is knowing when to start turning so you don’t throw yourself off balance. That will let you strike with the furthest reach and the most power.”

Dawnpaw tried it a few more times, until Moonshadow stopped her with an approving mew. “Excellent work, Dawnpaw! If we ever have to deal with foxes again—and, eventually, we will—you’ll be ready for them.”

“Would an attack like this work on LightClan? If they were striking from above?” Dawnpaw asked.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t advise it. This technique is meant for something the size of a fox, so I don’t think it would be possible to maneuver under a cat the same way. Besides, it would be a killing move, and that is against the warrior code. We don’t even resort to killing foxes until they’ve refused to leave the territory.”

That dampened Dawnpaw’s spirits a little, since she wouldn’t get to use her new training much, but she agreed that it was for the best. Warriors fighting to the death would destroy the Clans, and she was glad that she wasn’t a rogue, where there were no rules and some battles ended in killing blows.

They went over the battle techniques that Dawnpaw had already learned—feinting, how to use the opponent’s weight against them, how to keep her tail out of the way so it wasn’t bitten—and the sun was high in the sky by the time they stopped, both a little out of breath from the heat despite practicing in a shaded area.

“Are you ready to go back to camp?” Moonshadow asked.

She shifted her weight from one paw to another. She was tired, but she felt like she ought to do more. Going back to camp without prey felt weird, especially since Lightpaw had taken care of all their chores for Snowytail for the day. And she wasn’t looking forward to facing Darkpelt and Thornfang. Or, worse, Halfstar and Rosefall.

Moonshadow rested his tail across her shoulders. “I’ll always be on your side.”

Dawnpaw looked up into his warm, yellow eyes and purred. Moonshadow was a strict mentor, but it felt good to know that there was at least one cat she could rely on to stand up for her no matter what. With confident pawsteps, they walked back to camp side-by-side.


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Moonlight illuminated the path across LightClan territory. Skypaw walked between Dognose and Silverpaw, a slight bounce in each step. It was a bit disappointing that he wouldn’t be going to his first Gathering with Breezepaw, but his littermate had gotten to go last moon as a reward for catching three pieces of prey in one patrol while Skypaw was kept in the medicine den to treat his front paws after he accidentally stepped on stinging nettle.

“Remember, be friendly, but don’t say too much,” Dognose said. “Thankfully greenleaf has been good to us, but we don’t want to reveal anything that might make NightClan think we’re weak.”

“What should I do if a NightClan cat says something?” Skypaw asked.

“Report what you heard to Blueheart or Mousestar, and they’ll figure out what we should do about it.”

“They probably won’t say anything, though,” Silverpaw cut in. “Not much happens during greenleaf, unless they’ve had problems with a foxes, dogs, or badgers. And if they did, we’d probably know about it by now.”

That was true; there hadn’t been any border fights. LightClan’s patrols barely ever saw NightClan cats patrolling their own side of the river, and their scent only ever strayed across because of wind, not because of scent markers being set on LightClan territory.

Skypaw bounced with excitement. He would actually meet cats from a different Clan today! He knew that they followed the warrior code, just like LightClan, but he couldn’t help wondering how different they might be. Would they be friendly or standoffish? Were they excited about seeing LightClan at the Gathering, or would they be as reserved and cold as their territory?

“You’ve met LightClan warriors before. What are they like?” he asked Silverpaw.

Silverpaw thought about it for a moment before answering, “They’re all different. Some of them are nice, some aren’t. I’d stay away from the senior warriors, since they usually don’t like being bothered by apprentices. Actually, you should probably stick around NightClan’s apprentices. I’ve met Shadowpaw and Dawnpaw, and they’re… well, Shadowpaw is okay. Dawnpaw seems kind of intense, though.”

“Intense?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what NightClan tells their apprentices about Gatherings, but she seemed to think Halfstar and Mousestar were going to declare war at any moment. I think she views us as enemy warriors first and foremost.”

Skypaw tilted his head to the side. “Aren’t we?”

“We’re rivals for sure, but we aren’t enemies all the time. Greenleaf means lots of prey, which means we don’t have anything to fight over. Come leafbare, we’ll need to be more guarded,” Dognose explained. “The only reason we didn’t end up in battle last leafbare was because NightClan was too weak to fight. Otherwise we would have been in real trouble.”

“LightClan, in trouble?” Ducktail chimed in. The white and gray warrior was walking on Dognose’s other side. “We would have sent those mange-pelts packing if a single one of their whiskers crossed the border.”

“With you leading the charge, I’m sure,” Dognose purred, butting Ducktail’s shoulder with his head. “Go on, Skypaw. Don’t let us oldfurs keep you.”

Silverpaw darted ahead to catch up with Blueheart and Mousestar, and Skypaw ran after him. He wanted to be one of the first LightClan cats into the Gathering place.

Mousestar stopped before they reached the edge of the hollow, raising his long, thin tail to signal to the rest of LightClan that they should wait. Skypaw sniffed the air and immediately recognizing the overwhelming scent of NightClan. There was no way it was coming from all the way across the river; NightClan had already arrived at the Gathering place. Mousestar was waiting for all his warriors to catch up before they went down.

Skypaw poked his head around Blueheart to see into the hollow. The NightClan cats circled the bottom of the hollow, some of them lapping up the shallow remains of the pool. Aside from their woodland scent, they didn’t seem all that different from the LightClan cats. At least not at a distance.

Mousestar lowered his tail and LightClan surged into the hollow, forming a line of warriors until Mousestar and Blueheart pulled ahead to greet NightClan.

“The pool hasn’t dried up yet. We’ll have a wet leafbare,” Mousestar mewed amicably.

“So we shall,” Halfstar responded in a measured tone. “I hope that your Clan will manage to stay dry.”

“Come on,” Silverpaw flicked Skypaw’s ear with his tail and wove his way through the cats until they came to a NightClan cat who was close to Skypaw’s size. The moonlight washed out the color of his coat, but Skypw could still tell that he was a yellow tabby. He was sitting closer to a ginger warrior, who nudged him encouragingly and walked away as the LightClan apprentices approached. Silverpaw twitched his whiskers in greeting. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Silverpaw, and this is Skypaw.”

“This is my first Gathering,” Skypaw said, trying not to let his nervousness show. How did Silverpaw manage to sound so casual all the time?

“Mine, too. I’ve been training for two moons, but my sisters got to come last time,” the NightClan apprentice replied. “My name is Lightpaw.”

“It’s my second moon, too!” Skypaw exclaimed. He didn’t think he’d immediately have so much in common with a NightClan cat. “My brother came last time. If your sisters met a white and yellow tabby named Breezepaw, that was him.”

“They didn’t mention him,” Lightpaw answered. “But I think they did mention you, Silverpaw.”

“She-cats always remember me,” Silverpaw said smugly, then broke off into a good-humored purr.

“Shadowpaw said you were arrogant and mouse-brained,” Lightpaw added.

“Too right!” Skypaw mewed and batted Silverpaw’s shoulder with one paw.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t come here to get beat up on. There’s a truce, you know,” Silverpaw replied. He nodded toward a group of young warriors and flicked Skypaw’s ear with his tail again before walking away.

I guess I don’t need him to be with me the whole time, Skypaw thought, though he had hoped that Silverpaw would stay. He didn’t think that the gray apprentice was actually bothered by their teasing. He was just taking the chance to get to know some warriors a little better, and even though he was only one moon older than Skypaw, he was certainly starting to look more like a warrior than an apprentice. Skypaw would cheer for him louder than anyone else when he got his warrior name, but he couldn’t help wishing that they could get their names at the same time.

“Is that ginger tom who was with you before your mentor?” Skypaw asked.

“Yes—that’s Flamefoot,” Lightpaw nodded in his direction. The ginger tom was talking to a big gray tabby tom with white patches. “He wants me to try ‘being more independent and social.’”

Before they could say anymore, Mousestar and Halfstar surged up the slope while Blueheart and the gray tabby tom that Flamefoot had been speaking to took their places on ledges just beneath them. All of the cats remaining in the hollow turned their attention on the leaders and deputies and fell silent.

Mousestar gestured to Halfstar with his tail, giving him permission to speak first.

“Greenleaf has been good to NightClan,” the black and white tom said, his voice carrying over the entire hollow. “We have made a new warrior—Dewfrost.” A gray and white tom stood up straighter as the gathered cats called out his name. “Prey is more plentiful than it has been in many seasons, and the training of our current apprentices is going well. I have no doubt that we will have more new warriors to announce in leaf-fall.”

He’s putting a lot of focus on that, Skypaw thought, wondering if he should be happy for their neighbors, or concerned that they would have more trained warriors in time for leafbare. We’ll be trained by then, too, and we’ll have loads more apprentices.

“We are glad to hear that things are going well in NightClan,” Mousestar said. “LightClan continues to thrive. We haven’t had any problems with drought this year, and Briarleaf has had another litter of strong kits.”

Skypaw heard a few surprised murmurs among the NightClan cats at that, since Briarleaf had recently had a litter—though Duskpaw had been the only kit to survive. He was more shocked at the dark look that he saw cross Halfstar’s face when Mousestar announced the new kits. It must have been a trick of the moonlight; kits were a blessing for both Clans.

“That’s nice,” Lightpaw mewed quietly to Skypaw. “What are the kits’ names?”

“Uh…” Skypaw tried to think. The kits had just been born a few sunrises before, and with Duskpaw volunteering to bring prey to her new siblings and cleaning out their nests, he hadn’t seen much of them. “I think they’re Emberkit, Spottedkit, Dapplekit, and Crowkit.”

Lightpaw looked as though Skypaw had struck his face with claws unsheathed. “Crowkit?”

Before Skypaw could question him, the leaders beckoned for their Clans to join them outside of the hollow and head for home. Lightpaw dipped his head to Skypaw and said, “It was nice to meet you,” before finding his mentor and disappearing into the throng of NightClan cats. He thought that the Gathering would have lasted longer, but nights were short in greenleaf and some of the warriors would be needed for the dawn patrol and morning hunting patrol.

He didn’t have time to dwell on Lightpaw’s odd reaction as he climbed up the slope himself, surrounded by the familiar scents and voices of his Clanmates. Blueheart was waiting for him at the top and fell in step beside him instead of taking lead with Mousestar. “What did you think of your first Gathering?”

“It was fun,” Skypaw answered, lifting his head in an attempt to look confident. It wasn’t every day that the deputy took time to talk to him specifically, and she was one of the prettiest she-cats in the Clan, too. “Lightpaw seems alright. Maybe a little weird.”

“Just remember, while you’re allowed to be friendly with cats in other Clans, your loyalty is to your Clan first. You might have to face Lightpaw in battle someday,” Blueheart said. “But, I’m glad that you were able to get along with a NightClan apprentice. The more our young cats get along, the more we might be able to look forward to peace in the future.”

“Do you have friends in NightClan?” Skypaw asked.

“There are a few cats I’m fond of speaking to at Gatherings,” Blueheart answered, and Skypaw wondered if he should have phrased his question differently. “Moonshadow is a noble warrior, and Stoneclaw usually has some interesting stories to share.”

“Did Halfstar seem a little weird about Briarleaf’s kits?”

Blueheart’s eyes flashed in the moonlight. “So you noticed, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was jealous about Mousestar and Briarleaf’s new litter—there aren’t any queens or kits in NightClan right now, and there won’t be until their apprentices become warriors.”

No kits! Skypaw couldn’t imagine it. NightClan’s camp must be so quiet and lonely without the antics of kittens to liven it up. “What happened to them?”

“Greencough,” mewed Softflower, who was walking behind them. “There was a terrible outbreak in NightClan last leafbare. Almost all their queens and kits died, and most of the warriors they lost were she-cats as well. It was a tragedy. I wish we could have helped more, but…”

“Leafbare is always hard. We lost our share of kits, too,” Blueheart replied.

“Yours should be strong enough to survive before leafbare comes,” Softflower purred.

Blueheart lowered her tail self-consciously. “You can tell already?”

“I’m a medicine cat. It’s my job,” Softflower laughed.

“You’re expecting kits?” Skypaw exclaimed. He hadn’t noticed that there was anything different about Blueheart at all.

“Yes. They should arrive in early leaf-fall. It’s going to be tough, being deputy, a mentor, and a mother all at once! I might have to let another cat be deputy for a little while, just until I can get back to doing my duties properly.”

Skypaw could only hope that Duskpaw and Silverpaw were warriors by then, but even though Duskpaw was an amazing cat, he didn’t think she could finish her training quite that fast. “Maybe we should expand the nursery a little,” he suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Blueheart answered with an approving purr. “I’ll talk to Mousestar about that in the morning and ask that you be put in charge of the task. I’m sure Duskpaw will want to join you, and I’ll get a warrior to help you out as well.” 

Even though it was only a practical suggestion, Skypaw was still happy with her praise, and he eagerly shared it and everything else that had happened at the Gathering with Breezepaw when the Gathering patrol returned to camp. His littermate was already curled up in their den, along with Duskpaw.

“If we’re extending the nursery, we should reinforce it with some thorns on the outside,” Breezepaw said.

“Thorns? Why?” Skypaw asked. Wouldn’t thorns make things unpleasant for cats coming to visit the kits?

“You said that Halfstar didn’t have the most positive reaction to hearing about Briarleaf’s new kits,” Breezepaw pointed out. “I bet that he won’t be happy to hear about Blueheart’s kits, either. And a Clan follows its leader’s ideas as much as their orders. Whether or not they attack, we should be prepared, just in case.”

“You really think NightClan would attack our nursery?” Skypaw gasped.

“I’m just saying it’s better to be ready, that’s all,” Breezepaw answered.

“Go to sleep,” Duskpaw mewed, getting up and turning so her back was to them. “Some cats need to be out hunting tomorrow morning!”

“And some of us are just plain exhausted,” Silverpaw added.

Skypaw tucked his nose under his paws and closed his eyes, realizing how tired he was for the first time that night. He had never been more glad to not be on an early patrol. However, sleep didn’t come, and the longer he was awake the more Skypaw worried. He’d thought that the Gathering would reassure him that the peace between NightClan and LightClan would last—that, despite their differences, they were united under the warrior code. Although he’d gotten along fine with Lightpaw and nothing outright bad had happened, Breezepaw’s words buried into him like a thorn hidden in his nest. The way he spoke, it seemed that an invasion from NightClan was inevitable.

Why can’t we live in peace with each other?


	7. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Dawnpaw woke with alarm and rushed out of the apprentices’ den. Sunlight scorched the ground through the treetops, and even the shade was warmer than usual. She looked around for Moonshadow and found him speaking to Halfstar outside the leader’s den, trying to keep out of the heat.

“I’m sorry I woke up late!” Dawnpaw mewed to Moonshadow, expecting to be scolded.

However, the deputy only stretched and uttered a short farewell to Halfstar before heading for the camp entrance. “You aren’t late. The sun is shining more than usual, but it’s still morning. There is always one day in greenleaf that is longer than the others. But, since you’re up, we might as well go see if we can join the hunting patrol and catch something before the heat drives all the prey to their dens.”

“Sure!” Dawnpaw wouldn’t have minded going back to her nest to wait out the day, but hunting was preferable to battle training in the heat. She fell in line behind Moonshadow and followed him through the forest, her paws automatically guiding her along the path that she knew led toward the LightClan border. There was likely to be plenty of easy prey near the river, and it would be cooler for them as well.

The two of them moved in silence to avoid disturbing the prey in the woods and any of their Clanmates who might be hunting nearby. Dawnpaw was pretty sure she could pick up the scents of Flamefoot and Reedsplash.

In fact, she was certain, and they crashed through the underbrush moments after she noticed.

“Moonshadow, thank StarClan!” Reedsplash mewed with relief, though his eyes were wide and his pelt was ruffled from running through the bushes.

“Lightpaw has gone missing,” Flamefoot explained once he recovered his breath. “We were patrolling the border when Reedsplash and I scented a rabbit. We decided to make a quick catch of it, so we had Lightpaw stay behind and continue marking the border. When we came back to where we’d left him, he was gone. We haven’t been able to pick up his scent anywhere in the woods nearby.”

Dawnpaw’s hackles raised in alarm. “Do you think he fell into the river?”

“It’s possible, but not likely. I think he crossed the border into LightClan. We were coming back to camp to tell Halfstar and get a larger patrol to go retrieve him.”

“There’s no need for that now. I can lead the patrol, and any more than the four of us would provoke LightClan,” Moonshadow said. “If we move quickly we might find Lightpaw before he gets caught by a Lpatrol, or worse.”

Reedsplash and Flamefoot nodded and took their positions behind Moonshadow as he took off toward the border. Dawnpaw’s heart pounded in her ears as she ran. She couldn’t believe that Lightpaw, of all cats, would do something so reckless! There had to be some kind of foul play at work. Had a LightClan patrol spotted the apprentice by himself on the riverbank and attacked him? What if they’d taken him prisoner? On a hot day like this, she imagined that the LightClan warriors would be desperate to take some of NightClan’s shade and expand their territory just into the forest.

That’s silly, she told herself, but she couldn’t imagine why else Lightpaw wouldn’t have stayed where his mentor had left him. Lightpaw almost never went anywhere without one of his littermates or Flamefoot; running off by himself wasn’t like him at all. She couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to cross the border.

They burst out of the tree line and onto the sun-dried riverbank near the stepping stones. Moonshadow stayed in the lead and began leaping from one stone to the next. Flamefoot went next, and Dawnpaw was just behind him.

Cold water splattered against her flank as Reedsplash dove into the river and began paddling across beside them. She bit back an alarmed question when Flamefoot commented, “He wasn’t named ‘-splash’ for nothing.”

Dawnpaw’s fur prickled with anticipation when they landed on the other side of the river. This wasn’t like crossing to go to the Gathering; they were on hostile, enemy territory. And, somewhere, so was her brother.

I’m coming, Lightpaw! 

“See if you can pick up his scent,” Moonshadow ordered, already lowering his head to the ground. “We need to figure out which way he went, or if he was apprehended by LightClan warriors.”

“I’ve got it!” Flamefoot replied almost immediately. He was living up to his reputation as one of the best trackers in the Clan, and for a moment Dawnpaw let herself be distracted by the possibility of training with him. Tracking was similar to hunting, but it wasn’t the exact same, and Moonshadow hadn’t given her any lessons on that yet. “Here—he crossed beside the stepping stones, not over them, to disguise his scent. What in StarClan’s name was he thinking?” 

“Clearly he didn’t want you catching him.”

“Why would he do that?” Dawnpaw’s voice was full of confusion. “He must have been carried over by LightClan warriors. That’s the only explanation. Lightpaw would never go off on his own, and he’d never break the warrior code by crossing onto another Clan’s territory! And definitely not without telling me about it!”

“I’m not picking up any LightClan scents,” Reedsplash replied, though his tone was sympathetic and he licked a few drops of water off of Dawnpaw’s flank. “He can explain what happened when we find him.”

“Lightpaw’s trail leads up the slope. Let’s get going.”

Flamefoot took Moonshadow’s place as the leader of the patrol. Once they got further away from the river, Dawnpaw was able to track Lightpaw’s scent as well, but she left that to Flamefoot and instead scanned the hillside with her eyes. Lightpaw should be visible, shouldn’t he? Then again, his pale yellow pelt would blend in with the dry grass. He might be in plain sight and she wouldn’t know it.

“Great StarClan, it’s hot! How do LightClan manage?” Reedsplash groaned.

Dawnpaw was about to mew in agreement when Flamefoot’s head whipped up and he called, “Lightpaw!”

The missing apprentice was hanging over the side of a gully several foxlengths away, his claws slipping against the gritty soil. A gray LightClan cat stood over him, sneering down at the struggling apprentice.

He pushed Lightpaw in! Anger quickened Dawnpaw’s pace and she was soon running at Flamefoot’s heels. The LightClan warrior turned to face them, hackles rising and teeth bared.

“Invasion!” he shouted, and the echo carried his voice up the slope. Dawnpaw didn’t know if there were other LightClan cats close enough to hear him, but she knew that the sound of their fighting would likely draw reinforcements anyway. They had to finish this quickly or they’d be outnumbered. 

The gray warrior raced toward them and barreled into Flamefoot, who couldn’t change course fast enough to pull off a counter-attack. The toms tumbled over each other and the gray warrior ended up on top, but before he could sink his claws or teeth in to Flamefoot’s exposed belly and neck, Moonshadow shoved him off.

Dawnpaw kept running until she was next to Lightpaw, who let out an anxious mew as his feet dangled over the drop. The gully was deep; if he slid down, he could break his leg—or worse.

“Hang on,” Dawnpaw said. She made sure her paws were firmly planted on the ground and then sank her teeth into his scruff to pull him up.

Before Lightpaw could climb all the way out of the trench, a blur of black, white, and ginger knocked Dawnpaw off her feet. She kicked out with her hind paws, but the calico she-cat pinned her down and dug her claws into Dawnpaw’s chest with a hiss. “What are you doing here?” 

LIghtpaw let out a frightened yowl as the slipped further back down the gully, the side destabilized by the abruptness of the she-cats’ movements. “Dawnpaw, help me!”

The calico she-cat turned to look at him, letting up the pressure on her captive just enough for Dawnpaw to shove her off with a strong kick from both hind legs, claws unsheathed. She twisted and got back to her feet, striking the she-cat across the face before rushing to help Lightpaw. He had slid further down, but he’d managed to dig his claws into the side of the gully before falling. If he could just get his feet onto something solid, he could push his way back up with her help. 

How can I reach him? Dawnpaw glanced back at her enemy, who was trying to wipe the blood out of one of her eyes and glaring at Dawnpaw with the other. Before she could attack again, a yowl on her other side alerted Dawnpaw that there were more LightClan cats coming. She turned away from the gully and batted at a silver tom, both of them rearing up onto their hind paws and locking their forelegs together as they struggled to overtake the other’s balance.

The silver tom let out a yowl as a flash of brown tabby fur appeared at Dawnpaw’s side and bit into his back leg. He stumbled back and landed hard near the edge of the gully. He screeched and tried to launch himself at Reedsplash, only for the ground beneath his paws to shift. Dawnpaw barely caught his startled gasp as he flailed, trying to find firm ground, before he plummeted down into the gully. The loud THUD of him hitting the ground far below could have been heard in NightClan’s territory.

“Silverpaw!” the calico she-cat exclaimed, approaching the side of the gully carefully and lowering herself down to him as fast as she could, the NightClan cats forgotten.

Reedsplash looked up the slope. “There’s more on the way. Let’s get Lightpaw and go!”

Together, Dawnpaw and Reedsplash reached down and helped drag Lightpaw up with their claws, until he was close enough for Reedsplash to grab his scruff and haul him the rest of the way. Dawnpaw deliberately avoided looking at where the silver tom had fallen.

As soon as Lightpaw was on solid ground again he bolted toward the border. Flamefoot and Moonshadow were still grappling with the gray tom, all of them bleeding from several wounds, but when they saw Lightpaw coming their way Flamefoot delivered one last blow to the tom’s ears and ran away with his apprentice.

The LightClan warriors were right on Dawnpaw and Reedsplash’s heels, and the gray tom wasn’t backing down. He lunged at Dawnpaw as she passed, but Moonshadow leapt onto him and tackled him to the ground before he could lay a claw on her.

“Keep running!” Moonshadow demanded, clawing at the LightClan warrior even though his own flank was bleeding heavily from a long scratch and he was missing a few patches of fur.

“But—”

Reedsplash pushed her forward. “He knows what he’s doing. Go!”

Biting back her protest, Dawnpaw ran for the NightClan border with Reedsplash at her side. She caught a glimpse of Flamefoot’s ginger fur just inside the ferns and brambles of the forest, waiting for them. She stopped, panting, in the bushes beside him.

“I sent Lightpaw on to camp,” Flamefoot said. “If they follow us across the border, we’ll have reinforcements soon.”

“Moonshadow stayed behind,” Dawnpaw mewed, poking her head out of the holly bush to see if she could spot him. “He was fighting that gray warrior.”

“Graystorm,” Flamefoot mewed. “He’s a vicious fighter, but I managed to land a few good blows. He shouldn’t give Moonshadow too much trouble in his condition.”

“But the rest of the LightClan warriors might,” Reedsplash said worriedly. “And you’re in no condition to keep fighting, Flamefoot. Go see Rosefall and get treated; Dawnpaw and I will hold the line until reinforcements come.”

Flamefoot twitched his whiskers. “Will that be enough?”

“It’ll have to be.”

Dawnpaw’s hackles rose as a gray tabby approached the border at a run. She dug her claws into the ground and prepared to attack, ignoring the pain in her chest and left ear, when she saw white patches beneath the smears of blood.

“Moonshadow!”

She ran to the border to meet her mentor, who barely managed to make it over the stepping stones. He collapsed onto NightClan territory, his forelegs splayed out and bleeding from several scratches. She hastily began grooming the blood from his pelt, seeing the deep cuts he was covered in up-close. “Moonshadow, hang on! Lightpaw and Flamefoot are getting help.” She looked up, across the river, but didn’t see any LightClan cats pursuing him. A few vaguely cat-shaped figures were disappearing back up the slopes.

“I’m alright,” Moonshadow said. “Just need to rest for a moment…”

Dawnpaw settled at his side and kept licking until she thought the taste of blood would make her sick. Only now did she start to feel the pain of her own wounds.

The bushes rustled. Halfstar, Thornfang, Lightningstrike, Echoheart, and Shadowpaw emerged from the underbrush.

“Is everyone alright?” Halfstar asked, looking over Dawnpaw and Reedsplash for serious injuries before his eyes rested on his deputy. Echoheart was already beside him.

“He’s wounded, but it’s not too late,” Echoheart answered. “It probably looks worse than it is, but we need to treat it for infection now, before it can get worse.”

“Thornfang, help me get him back to camp,” Halfstar said, getting on one side of Moonshadow and letting the gray tabby lean against him. Thornfang walked on his other side.

“Thank goodness Shadowpaw was safe at camp,” she said. The black apprentice bristled at the comment but said nothing. Dawnpaw felt sorry for her sister—she was still not much bigger than she had been when they received their apprentice names, and Thornfang still treated her like a kit.

“Lightpaw’s alright,” Dawnpaw reported to Thornfang, but she didn’t seem to hear her. Of course, Lightpaw had gone to camp for help, so she would already know that he wasn’t too badly hurt. Instead Dawnpaw followed behind Moonshadow’s escort, next to Reedsplash and Shadowpaw.

She’d had her first taste of battle. It had been frightening, and for a moment she had doubted if she’d make it back to NightClan. But she couldn’t deny the absolute thrill of proving her skill as a warrior, or the satisfaction of kicking that calico she-cat away and raking her claws across her face. She won’t soon forget about that! Dawnpaw thought with triumph. It was regrettable that they’d had to run away, but they’d never stand a chance against the whole of LightClan.

The camp was buzzing with excitement. Halfstar and Thornfang guided Moonshadow to the medicine den, where Rosefall was applying cobwebs to Flamefoot’s wounds. He came out for a moment to look over the others.

“I’ll want to see all of you before the sun goes down,” he mewed. “Especially you, Dawnpaw.”

“Me?” Dawnpaw stared. She hadn’t gotten that badly hurt, just a few scratches on her chest. Despite the sting, she didn’t feel like she needed treatment. Certainly not as badly as Flamefoot and Moonshadow did.

“Yes, you, and I won’t hear any argument about it,” Rosefall snapped, then turned back to treating Flamefoot while Echoheart prepared a nest for Moonshadow. No doubt he’d have to stay the night in the medicine den to make sure that his cuts healed properly.

Lightpaw was sitting hunched over with his head down in the middle of camp. Halfstar didn’t need to call the meeting; the moment he swarmed up the fallen tree, everyone was at attention.

“What,” he meowed tensely, “were you thinking?”

“I just wanted to see the new kits,” Lightpaw answered, lowering his head even further. “Skypaw said that one of them is named Crowkit, and I wanted to… I don’t know… I felt like I should see them. Like I had to see them.”

“Did you get anywhere near LightClan’s camp?”

“No—I lost my footing and fell into a gully.”

Dawnpaw’s fur was hot with embarrassment on Lightpaw’s behalf. He had to confess to breaking the warrior code, and not only had he gotten his mentor and deputy seriously hurt, but he also hadn’t even gotten close to achieving his goal. Poor Lightpaw!

“You were lucky that Flamefoot noticed and led a patrol to rescue you. If LightClan had caught you snooping around, especially near their nursery, they would have clawed you so badly that you’d have a paw in StarClan. I hope that you appreciate what they risked in crossing the border to rescue you, and that you understand what your actions may have caused. We have been at peace with LightClan for moons now, and because of this they may try to invade to avenge your wrongdoing.”

“I’m sorry,” Lightpaw squeaked.

“I think it goes without saying that you will not attend the next Gathering. You will spend the next moon helping Rosefall and Echoheart with anything they need, to pay them back for their hard work in helping heal cats who were injured because of your actions. You will also make sure to clean those cats’ nests out and make sure that they are fed before you. Including Dawnpaw.”

The brown and white tabby apprentice froze up at the mention of her name. That would be awkward, but it wasn’t her place to tell Halfstar what Lightpaw’s punishment should be. He had caused a lot of trouble just to see a few kits, especially since he’d see them in a few seasons when they were apprenticed.

“Yes, Halfstar.”

“I hope that this experience will help you reflect on the responsibilities of being a warrior. You cannot forsake the safety of your Clan for your own curiosity.” Halfstar jumped down from the tree and disappeared into his den with an irritated twitch of his tail.

“But what about LightClan?” Dawnpaw asked. Lightpaw might have done something foolish, but that didn’t excuse Graystorm’s actions. “They were going to let Lightpaw fall! He could have gotten seriously hurt, and they weren’t going to do anything about it! Isn’t that against the code?”

Halfstar considered her words before replying, “The warrior code only protects kits. Lightpaw was old enough to know better. While I’m sure that a NightClan cat would have offered assistance if they saw a LightClan cat struggling, we cannot force LightClan to look after our apprentices, especially when they’re trespassing.”

“Dawnpaw, we’re ready for you,” Echoheart mewed before she could say anything back to Halfstar or comfort her brother. Lightpaw looked so lost, sitting there by himself. She would talk to him later when they were in their nests. There had to be more to this; she couldn’t imagine her cautious brother sneaking into enemy territory, risking capture and injury and StarClan knew what else, just to see a few kits that didn’t matter to him. And she wasn’t ready to forgive Graystorm or any of the other LightClan cats who would have stood by and not raised a claw to help when her brother could have died.

Echoheart placed a paw on the nest next to Moonshadow and Dawnpaw laid down to wait for one of the medicine cats to treat her scratches. She only intended to close her eyes for a moment, but quickly fell asleep.


	8. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Skypaw carried a mouse to the medicine den, and his full mouth was all that stopped him from screaming to StarClan, I know I wanted to get my warrior name at the same time as Silverpaw, but I didn’t mean like this!

Silverpaw laid on his side inside the medicine den, looking absolutely miserable. Two sunrises ago he’d at least had Graystorm for company, but the warrior had been released back to his warrior duties with the stipulation that he not strain himself too much. He would have some new scars on his back and side, and Duskpaw would always have a scar over her eye. Silverpaw hadn’t gotten away so easily, though Softflower said that he was lucky to be alive. His broken foreleg would heal, and he might even be able to resume his apprentice training in a moon.

The brown and white apprentice set the mouse in front of Silverpaw, and he looked at it without much interest. “Are the elders and kits fed?”

“Breezepaw is hunting for them today. I caught this for you.” Skypaw settled next to him. Softflower was out gathering herbs, so there was plenty of space underneath the gorse bush.

“You should have it,” Silverpaw answered, looking miserably at his stretched and bound foreleg. 

“We can share it,” Skypaw offered, flicking Silverpaw’s ear with his tail. For once, he didn’t return the gesture, instead turning his head and resting it on top of his good leg with a deep sigh. Skypaw took a bite of the mouse and nudged it closer to Silverpaw before standing. He’d have to eat eventually; in the meantime, Skypaw could make himself useful, since Silverpaw didn’t seem up to company.

Breezepaw trotted back into camp with his head held high, probably to avoid dragging the massive crow he was carrying across the ground. Brownclaw’s eyes were shining with pride and Skypaw was sure that the squirrel he was carrying was most likely also one of Breezepaw’s catches. He was becoming quite the hunter and would start training on how to hunt in the gullies soon; Skypaw was still having difficulties with detecting prey. He had the hunter’s crouch down and managed to catch his share of fresh-kill, but actually finding prey to catch wasn’t as easy for him as it was for Breezepaw. He knew that Dognose was concerned about that, since finding prey was easiest in greenleaf. If Skypaw didn’t improve, he’d be useless as a hunter come leafbare.

The two of them headed straight for the nursery, and Skypaw decided to follow. He wanted to know how Breezepaw had managed to catch that crow, and he knew that Breezepaw would be eager to tell him.

The nursery would have been a tight fit, even with Whitekit, Redkit, and Rainkit playing out in the hollow, if not for the extension that Skypaw had suggested. They’d taken a few of the tree branches that washed ashore from the river and leaned them against the heather. The pine needles were still attached, creating a natural barrier to the rain. Despite keeping up with her duties as a deputy and mentor for the time being, a nest had been prepared for Blueheart under the new addition.

The squeaking of Briarleaf’s kits greeted them. Breezepaw offered her and the crow and immediately Dapplekit and Emberkit started battering it with their tiny paws.

“The feathers will make your nests more comfortable,” Breezepaw said.

“Thank you, Breezepaw,” Daisypetal mewed, plucking a few and lining her nest with them. Brownclaw offered her the squirrel and she set it down on her other side. It was cool enough for the kits to roughhouse outside, and she probably didn’t want to interrupt them. They’d all eat when they came back in to get out of the sunhigh heat.

Spottedkit pounced on Skypaw’s tail and purred with satisfaction when it was trapped under her paws, only to squeal in just as much delight when Skypaw arched it up and out of her reach. It struck him how similar Spottedkit looked to her older sister, Swiftleap. Dapplekit was a mirror image of Duskpaw, too. He didn’t know if Crowkit would grow up to look like a she-cat version of Dognose; so far she seemed to take more after Mousestar than her brother, sharing his big ears and long tail.

Briarleaf tugged Spottedkit back toward her nest. “Look, Spottedkit—Breezepaw brought us this nice crow. Don’t you want to try eating some of it?”

“I’m hunting Skypaw!” Spottedkit declared with pride.

“Of course,” Briarleaf purred, “But Breezepaw surely had to work hard to catch this crow. We shouldn’t waste it. That’s against the warrior code.”

The calico she-kit snapped to attention at the word ‘warrior’ and plodded over to the crow, sniffing at it. Briarleaf took a bite and softened it for her so she could eat it. The kits were starting to be weaned, and not all of them liked the stronger taste of the meat.

Breezepaw nudged Skypaw and they left the nursery. “Not to brag, but that crow was hard to catch. I had to leap further than I’ve ever leapt before, straight up into the air, at exactly the right moment!”

“How ever did you manage it, O Mighty Hunter?” Skypaw mewed, shoving his shoulder. Breezepaw dropped his weight down, making Skypaw fall awkwardly over top of him before he surged upward and threw Skypaw clear. He landed on his paws, thankfully.

“When did you learn that move?” Skypaw asked, eyes wide.

“Brownclaw showed me earlier this morning,” Breezepaw replied. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done—”

“Coming through!” Whitekit exclaimed, racing past them down the slope of the hollow. He climbed up onto a jutting rock, Redkit on his heels and Rainkit trailing behind. Redkit cornered Whitekit on the rock.

“Got you now, Silverpaw!” Redkit yowled.

“You mangy NightClan cat!” Whitekit hissed back. “You aren’t a true Clan apprentice! You’ll never beat me in a fight! StarClan is on my side!”

Skypaw’s stomach turned.

“I can’t beat you in a fight—but I don’t have to!” Redkit shoved Whitekit off the rock, and he fell with a squeak onto the soft sand below.

“I’ll save you!” Rainkit raced down the rest of the slope to Whitekit’s side and ‘helped’ him stand up. “We’ll go tell Mousestar about this, and he’ll make sure that NightClan gets punished!”

“I’m running away!” Redkit laughed, heading back up the slope. Whitekit and Rainkit hurried after, probably to replay the game with swapped roles.

Skypaw’s claws had unsheathed almost of their own accord and were digging into the ground. He had never considered NightClan to be the enemies of LightClan the way Breezepaw did, but he couldn’t forgive the fact that a NightClan apprentice had pushed Silverpaw into the gully.

He could have died! Skypaw thought angrily, and his tail lashed behind him. NightClan truly had no honor or respect for the warrior code if they would invade LightClan and then try to kill one of their apprentices. They’re all cowards and foxhearts!

“Skypaw?” Breezepaw mewed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he answered tersely. “I was just thinking that I could do with some more battle training. You said you were going to show me that move, right?”

Concern enveloped Breezepaw’s blue eyes, but he nodded. “Right. It’s pretty easy, actually. All in the timing. When I rear up and start to come down, that’s when you drop. That’ll throw me off balance, and once you feel my weight on you, you push up with everything you’ve got.”

“I think I’ve got it,” Skypaw said, tensing his forelegs and preparing for Breezepaw’s offensive move.

The two of them practiced until it was nearly sunhigh, and they might have kept going if not for Mousestar calling a Clan meeting.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here in the hollow for a Clan meeting!”

Skypaw and Breezepaw took their places by Tigerfang and Cloudpelt. Tigerfang gave them each a lick between the ears, which made Skypaw curl his tail around his paws. Breezepaw was nearly indistinguishable from Cloudpelt as the two leaned against each other.

“As you all know by now,” Mousestar said, his voice carrying across every inch of the hollow, “A few days ago, a fight broke out between a number of NightClan warriors and a hunting patrol. It appears that one of NightClan’s apprentices snuck across the border, and a patrol of NightClan warriors attacked while trying to retrieve him.”

“A spy!” Ducktail hissed.

“We don’t know why the apprentice was on LightClan territory,” Mousestar said.

“Probably stealing prey,” Tallwind mewed, his voice cracking with age. “NightClan cats are nothing but trouble.”

“If I may continue,” Mousestar said sharply, “Two of our Clanmates were badly hurt during this fight. Graystorm sustained several injuries, and while Softflower agreed to release him from the medicine den, he is not to be put on any border patrols for the rest of the moon and will hunt only near camp.”

Graystorm growled, but didn’t say anything. It must be hard for the former loner to be stuck near the camp when he was still used to roaming around the territory as he pleased between patrols.

“Silverpaw broke his left foreleg, and has been dismissed from training until he heals,” Mousestar added. Lionclaw glanced around the gathered cats, probably checking to see if any of them wanted the quiet and reserved warrior to make a statement. No cat did, and he relaxed a little when he realized that he wouldn’t have to speak in front of all of them. “Softflower expects that Silverpaw will be able to return to his training in a moon, if everything goes well.

“In happier news, Blueheart is expecting kits, and will be joining Briarleaf and Daisypetal in the nursery soon. Until she is able to fully return to her duties, Tigerfang will be assisting with the formation of patrols and other day-to-day activities.”

Skypaw’s eyes lit up and he butted his head into his mother’s shoulder as the Clan cheered her name. She gave her chest a self-conscious lick, but Skypaw was close enough to hear her suppressed purr.

Mousestar prepared to jump back down into the hollow before Ducktail called, “Is that it?”

“Do you have something you would like to address?” Mousestar asked.

“NightClan trespassed on our territory and injured one of our warriors, and two of our apprentices. Duskpaw wasn’t hurt as badly as Silverpaw, but she was injured,” Ducktail spat. “Are we not going to do something about it?”

“I will discuss it with Halfstar at the next Gathering,” Mousestar said. “I’m sure that he has already punished the cats who crossed the border, and I doubt that they got away without a few wounds of their own to remember the lesson by.” 

“We can’t afford to wait,” Cloudpelt mewed. “Waiting for the Gathering will make it look as if we aren’t capable of following up on such a blatant breach of the warrior code!”

“And you would have us trespass to carry out vengeance, then?” Mousestar returned with an even tone. “No. LightClan will not sink to sneaking around NightClan’s territory and demanding blood. If there is any further retribution needed, we’ll come to an agreement about it at the Gathering. If I hear about any of you crossing the river into NightClan territory, you will be punished as fiercely as you would punish a NightClan cat for doing the same.”

Skypaw was impressed at how confident and reasonable Mousestar sounded, but his heart still pounded and he couldn’t help agreeing at least a little bit with Ducktail and Cloudpelt. He wanted to make sure that the NightClan cat who pushed Silverpaw into the gully paid for it with an injury just as bad.

NightClan are cowards anyway, he told himself, They would just run away and hide in the trees before I could get my claws on them.

His fur must have spiked up, because Tigerfang smoothed it with a few licks once the meeting dispersed for real. Cloudpelt and Breezepaw got up as Brownclaw approached, probably to tell their father about Breezepaw’s impressive catch on the morning hunting patrol.

“What’s wrong, Skypaw?” Tigerfang asked.

“I know Mousestar is right, but some NightClan cat pushed Silverpaw. He could have gotten hurt way worse, or died! Doesn’t that matter?”

“Of course it does.” It was hard to stay angry when Tigerfang’s gentle mew filled his ears. “Mousestar cares very deeply about the wellbeing of all the cats in LightClan. That’s why he’s going to give Halfstar a chance to explain his cats’ actions. If we jump to conclusions and start a battle to get revenge on NightClan, even more cats will get hurt, and it won’t help Silverpaw get better any faster.” She touched her nose to his forehead. “Breezepaw and Cloudpelt can get a little hot under their fur when it comes to cats outside of LightClan, but you’ve always been my big-hearted kit. Don’t let this change that.”

Skypaw looked into her eyes. Had he really changed so much over the course of a few sunrises?

“Dognose tells me that your training is going alright,” Tigerfang said, changing the subject. “And I saw you practicing with Breezepaw earlier. Are you happy with your apprenticeship?”

“Yes, of course!” Skypaw exclaimed, standing up straight. “I’m going to be a great warrior one day. Maybe even as good as you!”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s getting hot, and you were on the dawn patrol—you should get out of the heat and get some rest. We’ll go hunting later, just the two of us, if Dognose says it’s okay.”

“I’ll go ask!” Skypaw responded and dashed off to find his mentor.

Yet, even after listening to Tigerfang and Mousestar, he couldn’t get rid of the tightness in his chest that clenched his heart every time he thought of NightClan. It was wise not to get into an unnecessary battle, but he was certain that this wasn’t over yet, and he would be ready for the next time NightClan tried to hurt his Clanmates.


	9. Chapter Seven

Author’s Note:  
Wow, been a while since I wrote one of these. From here on out, this story will contain material that some people may find uncomfortable. If you are bothered by the concept of “teenage pregnancy” you may want to stop reading now. That is all. Thank you.

 

Chapter Seven

“Fox!” Dawnpaw shouted, her claws unsheathing as she readied herself to fight for her life. Lightpaw’s eyes went wide as he copied her, but Flamefoot shook his head.

“Good nose, but there’s no fox here,” he said. “It’s just the old fox den.” He gestured with his tail toward a hole that went under the split root of a tree, and Dawnpaw realized that the fox scent was wafting out of it. Lightpaw breathed a sigh of relief, but Dawnpaw groaned in embarrassment.

“Sometimes foxes still do use that den, but there haven’t been any around this season,” Halfstar explained. Dawnpaw tasted the air again and realized that the scent was stale, but it had been so strong and so sudden that she’d thought they were walking right into the waiting jaws of a fox. “It’s important that we patrol this area and make sure foxes don’t stick around. A vixen with cubs is one of the most dangerous foes you could ever encounter.”

Lightpaw sniffed at the den and recoiled with a sour expression. “I hope I never have to fight one.”

“So do I,” Flamefoot laughed. “Let’s keep patrolling. I want to be back before sundown.”

They picked up their pace as they wound through the bushes and ferns. Halfstar had decided to patrol near the further reach of the territory that day at Rosefall’s insistence. Dawnpaw would never understand the mysterious ways of the medicine cats. How did they know which of their dreams were messages from StarClan and which were just normal dreams? And if they did receive a special sign, how did they know what it meant? What had Rosefall dreamed that made him think Halfstar should lead the patrol himself?

At least the hunting was good. Dawnpaw scented a mouse and dropped into a crouch. She pricked up her ears, angled her body toward the direction she thought the mouse was in, and pounced. Her paws crashed through the twigs of a fallen branch, crushing the tiny gray body hiding beneath.

“Good catch!” Flamefoot mewed.

“Bury it there and we’ll fetch it on the way back,” Halfstar told her, a note of pride in his voice. Dawnpaw had noticed that he had started assigning her to more and more hunting patrols while Moonshadow was still recovering, sometimes even letting her go without him or one of the other mentors. She’d gotten fond of hunting alongside Reedsplash; the brown tabby warrior’s sense of humor was just as quick as his pawsteps.

“We’ll stop and hunt before we go back to camp,” Flamefoot told Lightpaw. Even though Shadowpaw was hunting for Snowytail that day, Lightpaw still had to hunt for Rosefall, Echoheart, and Moonshadow. Technically he was also hunting for Dawnpaw, but she usually insisted that they share whatever he brought her.

At least it was giving Lightpaw plenty of practice, which helped his confidence and made him a much better hunter. Dawnpaw trotted at his side as they continued along the far reaches of NightClan’s forest. It was in these distant woods that a patrol had once come across Flamefoot when he was barely six moons old. While there was plenty of prey to go around, it was still a good idea to check for rogues from time to time. Some of them might want to join the Clan, or might need to be chased off.

Flamefoot regarded their surroundings with fondness in his eyes, but he didn’t ask to stop anywhere, and the patrol went on without noticing anything out of the ordinary.

“We’ll let you two go hunt,” Halfstar said once they had marked the whole of the border. “Dawnpaw and I will get her mouse and head back to camp.” To Lightpaw, he added, “I have faith that you’ll catch plenty. Your skills have improved greatly over this past quarter moon.”

“Thank you,” Lightpaw said, tail raised high. His punishment might have been the best thing to happen to him, but Dawnpaw wished that his newfound hunting skills hadn’t come at the expense of her mentor’s health.

Dawnpaw led the way back to where she’d buried the mouse and scooped it up, tossing it into the air briefly before catching it in her mouth. Halfstar laughed good-naturedly at her antics, but he was more solemn on their walk back to camp.

“You seem bothered. Did we not find what Rosefall wanted us to?” Dawnpaw asked.

“No, nothing like that.” He took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you regarding Shadowpaw. I wanted to speak to you separately about it. You don’t typically take surprises well.” 

She would admit that was true; whenever she even thought she might have overslept and thrown off her plans for the day, she panicked. “What is it?”

“Over the past half moon Shadowpaw has spoken to me, quite adamantly, about ending her apprenticeship,” Halfstar said. “She feels that she can best serve her Clan by being a queen, and after three moons of training, she feels that she has the hunting and fighting skills necessary for the role of a nursery queen.”

Shock rooted Dawnpaw to the ground. Shadowpaw wanted to end her apprenticeship to be a nursery queen? But that would mean that she would never be a warrior—not in the truest sense, at least. She might still join a hunting patrol on occasion, but for the most part she would be in the nursery, looking after kits and helping other queens with theirs. And she was so young! They were only approaching their ninth moon. How could Shadowpaw throw away her future like that?

“You won’t let her,” Dawnpaw breathed. “You’re warning me that she’s going to be upset when we return because you told her no… right?”

Halfstar shook his head. “Dawnpaw, you must understand how dire NightClan’s situation is by now. We have no queens, no kits. Once you and your denmates become warriors, we’ll have no apprentices either, and won’t have any more for seasons. We cannot survive this way. I was as reluctant as you are when Shadowpaw first approached me with her request, and I did tell her no several times, but there is as much truth in it as there is desperation. We need more kits, and Shadowpaw is making a brave sacrifice in choosing to become a queen.”

“But—but she’s too young!” Dawnpaw cried.

“It is not ideal,” Halfstar admitted. “But there are rogues who have kits at younger ages. It isn’t a part of Clan tradition for apprentices to have kits, but—well, after today, Shadowpaw will not be an apprentice anymore. She will have completed the training necessary for the level of proficiency that she’ll need as a queen. Windwhisker is assessing her fighting and hunting skills now.”

“I have to talk to her,” Dawnpaw said. She couldn’t believe that Shadowpaw had made such a huge decision without telling her or Lightpaw about it! “I’ve got to convince her not to go through with this!” 

Halfstar looked at her with sympathy. “If you can, I welcome you to try. I’ll give you some time to speak with her before I hold the ceremony, and if you can change her mind, I’ll call it off. Otherwise, we must respect Shadowpaw’s decision.”

“But you’re leader. You can stop her, can’t you?” Dawnpaw begged.

“If this is truly what she wants, then I fear I cannot. That is part of what convinced me to allow this. If she decides that having kits is the best way for her to serve NightClan, she will have kits one way or another. At least this way she can still have the protection of the Clan and be honored for her choice, instead of sneaking off and possibly getting hurt.”

“Do you know who the father will be?”

“I did not ask. A queen doesn’t have to name the father, and if she does not… I am not sure I would want to know.”

Dawnpaw left him there with the mouse and raced back to camp, hoping that Shadowpaw would be there when she arrived. Was StarClan really okay with allowing a cat so young, one who should still be training with her mentor, to become a queen? Just because it happened outside of the Clans didn’t make it okay. Rogues and loners and kittypets did all sorts of things forbidden by the warrior code.

She spotted the black apprentice preparing to walk through the thorn tunnel into camp and shouted, “Shadowpaw!” to stop her. She jerked back from the entrance, tail bristling in alarm.

“Dawnpaw?” she mewed, “For StarClan’s sake, you nearly scared my fur off! What’s the matter?”

“Can we talk?” Dawnpaw asked, panting. “Somewhere private?”

Shadowpaw looked around briefly and nodded toward a clump of bracken a little bit away from the camp entrance. They squeezed under the branches, which forced them to be close together, so they could talk quietly with no fear of other cats overhearing.

“Halfstar told me what you’re planning to do,” Dawnpaw said. “Shadowpaw, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of my Clan,” Shadowpaw answered. There was a note of sorrow in her voice, but it was masked by determination. “I’m sure Halfstar already told you—NightClan needs kits. And with my size and strength, the odds of me being a good warrior aren’t great.”

“You could still be a great warrior,” Dawnpaw said. “You’re smart, and fast. You could do it.”

“I could, if I worked harder than any other apprentice ever has, but what’s the use in forcing myself into something I’m not cut out for?” Shadowpaw’s eyes shone as she looked at her sister. “You’re going to be the next great warrior of NightClan, Dawnpaw. You know that, don’t you? You’re big and strong and brave. I hope that you’ll mentor one of my first litter.” 

Dawnpaw was flustered by Shadowpaw’s words. She’d never dreamed that her sister had such fondness for her, and she felt bad for the times that she’d wished she had more of their parents’ attention. She’d gotten so caught up in trying to hide her own jealousy that she’d never considered that Shadowpaw might be a little envious of her, too.

Shadowpaw was a great cat, and Dawnpaw was lucky to be her littermate. She rubbed the side of her head into Shadowpaw’s neck and shoulder and Shadowpaw purred.

“You’re sure, then? There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?” Dawnpaw asked.

“I’m certain. This is the best way for me to serve my Clan, and it’s what I want,” Shadowpaw nodded. “I know it’s not normal, but NightClan’s situation isn’t normal. Other cats can say what they want. I’m going to raise the best kits NightClan has ever seen.” Her tone changed, and she sounded unsure. Dawnpaw knew that she did care what other cats thought. She wouldn’t want to be talked about behind her back, or have her kits mistreated by the Clan.

Dawnpaw licked Shadowpaw’s forehead. “I guess we should go into camp, then. No matter what, I’ll be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

They left the bracken and slipped through the thorn tunnel. Halfstar must have arrived while they were talking. He was sitting by the Fallen Log, waiting to speak. Dawnpaw twined her tail with Shadowpaw’s for a moment before she went to sit in the center of camp, signaling Halfstar to call the meeting.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Fallen Log for a Clan meeting,” Halfstar called.

Most of the cats had been eating their evening meal or grooming, so they didn’t have to move very far. Flamefoot and Lightpaw slipped into camp and stealthily deposited their catch on the fresh-kill pile before joining the rest of the Clan. Echoheart helped Moonshadow to the edge of the medicine den so he could listen from there. Most of the cats were talking quietly among themselves, curious as to what was going on, and Halfstar let them speculate for a moment before starting the announcement.

“It has not gone without notice that despite the good hunting this greenleaf, NightClan is in peril,” he began, treating each word with care. “Our nursery has been empty since the beginning of the season, when Dawnpaw, Lightpaw, and Shadowpaw were made apprentices. And it appears that there will be no new kits for some time if things continue on as they are.”

No one said anything, but a sense of dread fell over the crowd of cats. Dawnpaw realized just how much this topic must have been on the minds of the warriors, and how worried they must be for NightClan’s future.

“Shadowpaw has come to me with a suggestion, and after much consideration, I am giving her my approval.” He took a deep breath. “Shadowpaw has offered to leave her apprenticeship and become a queen.”

“Absolutely not!” Thornfang yowled, getting to her feet alongside Darkpelt. “NightClan has never had apprentices become queens before! It’s against the warrior code!”

Shadowpaw lowered her ears at the anger in her mother’s mew and the accusing snarls that came from the rest of the Clan. Dawnpaw’s fur fluffed up. She wanted to shred all of them for scaring Shadowpaw, but they quieted when Rosefall leapt onto the pine log and sat down next to Halfstar.

“StarClan has already spoken,” Rosefall said. “Our ancestors are just as concerned as we are, and they know that such a thing has never been done before, far better than we do. But these are desperate times. They have acknowledged Shadowpaw’s courage and selflessness in giving herself to her Clan this way.” There were still raised hackles, and he quickly added, “This is a special case. It’s not as if we are going to start expecting this of our apprentices.”

Thornfang lashed her tail and sat back down, Darkpelt joining her with his lip still slightly curled. Shadowpaw glanced back to where Dawnpaw was sitting, and the brown and white apprentice met her gaze in what she hoped was an encouraging way. She wouldn’t deny that this didn’t sit right with her, but it wasn’t as though Shadowpaw was doing it because she was lazy or didn’t care about her Clan. If anything, she was doing far more work for her Clan than she would as an apprentice!

“This kind of ceremony has never been done before—and, StarClan willing, will never be done again,” Halfstar said. He cleared his throat. “I, Halfstar, leader of NightClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has offered all that she has to give for her Clan, and I commend her to you in her turn. Windwhisker, you have assessed this apprentice’s skills. Do you believe that she can hunt and fight at a satisfactory level in times of need?”

Windwhisker looked around uncomfortably at the accusing stares of his Clanmates before answering, “Yes, Halfstar.”

“Shadowpaw, do you pledge yourself to the service of your Clan, through times both plentiful and harsh? Do you swear that you will raise your kits to honor the warrior code, and carry it in their hearts always?”

“I do.” There was no hesitation or doubt in her voice. She spoke with the conviction of a cat who knew she was doing the right thing, and even though Dawnpaw wished she didn’t have to, she would respect and honor her as much as she would any other queen.

“Then by the power of StarClan, I name you Shadowfern. May StarClan guide you and keep you safe.” He jumped down from the Fallen Log and touched his muzzle to her forehead.

“Shadowfern!” Lightpaw called, just heartbeats before Dawnpaw. “Shadowfern! Shadowfern!”

Slowly, a few of the other cats joined in, though some refused to congratulate her and instead turned their backs. Thornfang and Darkpelt stalked off together without saying a word to Shadowfern.

Dawnpaw saw Dewfrost approach shyly and curl his tail around the newly named queen. She leaned against him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Dawnpaw guessed that he would be the father of her kits, and she felt a little bit relieved by the fact that they had shared a den with him not long ago. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stand it if Shadowfern paired off with an older cat like Gullfeather or Windwhisker. At least not at her age.

If I had to choose a mate right now, who would I pick? Dawnpaw wondered. Flamefoot sprang to mind, but then she caught Reedsplash’s blue gaze and resisted a purr. He was a great friend, and maybe someday she could see them being mates, but she was glad that she had plenty of time before she needed to consider it.

Reedsplash quietly congratulated Shadowfern, and Lightpaw offered to get her moss and feathers for her nest in the nursery, which had been bare and unkempt for the past three moons. Dawnpaw headed into the nursery while he was gathering the moss and swept out some of the stale old bedding with her tail to make room.

StarClan, let Shadowfern’s kits be healthy and strong! Let her sacrifice save NightClan!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
